Just Another Tuesday Morning
by Techno Dawn
Summary: Leonardo loves his rare moments of peace and quiet, but he loves his brothers more.


**Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT, or much else, for that matter. Also, I'm tagging this as humor, even though I'm not all that funny.**

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The morning air was peaceful, the concrete of the sewers cool beneath his feet. The sound of traffic from the city streets above was as quiet as it ever got. Serenity was hard to come by in a home and family like his, and Leonardo savored it. His meditation session complete, Leonardo made his way to the kitchen in complete darkness, and opened the refrigerator.

As if sensing that the barrier between his physical body and the food that lay within the fridge had been broken, Michelangelo shot out of his bedroom door like a cannonball. Head, arms and legs tucked neatly against the bulk of his body, he formed almost a perfect circle as he rotated through the air. For a moment, Leonardo wondered what possibly could have propelled his brother in such a manner. But of course, it was Michelangelo's boundless energy alone that was the catalyst.

Michelangelo made it an impressive distance in the air before landing gracefully on his knees and sliding on them through the kitchen door. "Breakfassst!" he hissed, completing his Broadway-worthy entrance with the liberal use of jazz hands.

"Good morning, Michelangelo," Leo said as he looked down at his brother as though this was the most natural thing in the world. "Actually, I was just getting myself some orange juice. The others aren't up yet, so it seems a bit early for breakfast."

Michelangelo sprang to his feet in one smooth, effortless motion. "Oh come on, Leo. You know how those guys are. They won't be up for hours."

Indeed, Leonardo did know how his other two brothers behaved in the morning. He loved Raphael and Donatello, but if they weren't woken up properly, they behaved like different turtles altogether, and a little bit of Wrath-ael and Crankatello went a long way. "I don't know, Mikey. It's early."

Michelangelo was not deterred. "But, I'm hungry now," he whined.

Leo considered this. Michelangelo did require a lot of fuel to keep him going. As Donatello liked to say, he vibrated on a higher frequency than the rest of them. "Fine. Just have some cereal or something. Then, why don't we burn off some of your energy in the dojo?'

"Aye-aye, Captain," Michelangelo saluted. He then began rustling through the cabinets and singing the jingle for some sugary cereal or another.

Leonardo warned him to eat just one bowl before leaving with his juice to get an early start on his katas. The flow of his energy was different this time of day. It was cleaner, and more concentrated, as though he could feel his own life-force moving through him as the city above began to wake up.

By the time Michelangelo joined him, he was hopped up on sugar, clearly having gone against his brother's wishes and indulged in more than just one bowl. Leonardo didn't allow himself to get irritated at this. He channeled it all into his movement. Michelangelo came at him like whitewater crashing into a riverstone, all frenetic energy and unrefined power. Focused and solid as a rock, Leonardo won easily.

Almost an hour later, the two emerged from the dojo to find that their other brothers were still nowhere to be seen. Leonardo sent Michelangelo to the shower while he began preparing breakfast. It was his hope that the smell of cooking food would gently awaken the others. Sadly, he had no such luck, and now he had a hot breakfast ready and no one to eat it. It was time to face the unthinkable.

"Mikey, we've got to wake the others. Who do you want this time?"

Mikey groaned. "Donnie, I guess."

This was not as straightforward a choice as it seemed. Sure, Raphael was the resident hothead and the most likely to react with physical violence, but Donatello was something of a dark horse in the mornings. Most of the time he was sweet, kind Donnie, but on the occasions that he wasn't, he was capable of destroying anything in his path. Raphael was a known commodity, but waking Donatello was like playing russian roulette.

"Fine, I'll wake Raphael… again," Leo agreed. He began to leave, then thought better of it and grabbed a plate of bacon.

Leonardo steeled himself at Raphael's doorway. He made note of the snoring that confirmed his brother's presence, then knocked quietly. "Raph," he called in a hoarse whisper, "Raph!" There was no response, so Leonardo crept through the door. He scanned the room for weapons, taking a mental note of all their locations. He then set the bacon down on a side table, and carefully removed the sais from beneath Raphael's pillow. He knew better than to make the same mistake twice.

"Raph!" Leo called, "Raph!" The snoring stopped, but Raphael's eyes remained closed. This was good. A slow awakening was ideal. Leonardo dangled a piece of bacon over his brother's nose. "Raph!"

Raphael sprang to life all at once, flying into a seated position, knocking Leonardo's hand out of the way, and sending the bacon flying across the room. Leonardo jumped back and grabbed the plate as if to use it as a sacrificial offering. "Bacon, Raph! I brought you bacon!"

Raphael's hands went to his temples. "Ah, my head! What the shell, Leo? Stop yelling!"

"Yelling? I'm not yelling."

"Ah!" Raphael clutched his head tighter. "Why is that light so bright?"

Leonardo looked around. "Your light isn't even on. Do you mean the light in the other room?"

"Whatever. Who cares?"

Clearly Raphael had a headache. "I'll go get you some orange juice and aspirin," Leo said.

Raphael rubbed at his temple. "Thanks."

Leonardo left Raphael's room and found Mikey panicking in the hall. "Donnie is gone, Leo! I can't find him anywhere!"

"Calm down, Mikey. He's not gone. He probably just didn't go to bed, as usual. Did you check the lab?"

"Yeah."

"Did you check the garage?"

"Yeah."

"Did you check his _actual_ bed?"

"Yeah. I'm telling you, dude. He's gone."

"No he's not. I'll help you look." First Leo confirmed that Donnie wasn't in bed. This should be a quick elimination, since it was the least likely place for him to be. Donnie rarely slept in his own bed. Sure enough, he wasn't there. Next stop was the lab. There was no Donnie passed out at his desk, which was where Leo had left him last night. There was no Donnie on either of the medical cots. This was indeed getting somewhat worrisome.

Leo retrieved some painkillers from the laboratory first aid kit and delivered them to Raph before looking any further. Raphael thanked him profusely and politely, which was also rather worrisome, but there was no time to think about that right now.

Meanwhile, Michelangelo was checking increasingly unorthodox places, such as beneath the sofa and inside the stove. Leonardo put an end to that nonsense and dragged him into the garage. It wouldn't be the first time that Donnie had nodded off in one of the vehicles.

Leo opened the van door and found it empty. He stopped to think for a moment and heard an odd noise coming from nearby. As he concentrated, he realized that it sounded like a muted version of Donnie's whistling snore. Acting on instinct, Leonardo dropped to his knees. Sure enough, there was Donatello, fast asleep and unnaturally sprawled out on the concrete beneath the van.

Leo gestured for Mikey. "There he is," he said as he pointed. Mikey's eyes widened in fear and wonder. It was like watching a sleeping lion from outside of a cage. "Okay, well I'm going to go check on Raph and put on some coffee for Donnie," Leo said as he backed away.

"Wait!" Mikey whispered in alarm. "You can't just leave me!"

"You said that you were going to wake Donnie, so wake Donnie," Leo said in his fearless leader voice. "This is your responsibility, Mikey." Leonardo swiftly marched out of the room.

Mikey leaned down and thoughtfully inspected Donatello. Had he fallen asleep while changing the oil? There was an overturned drip pan next to him, in the midst of a dark puddle. Upon closer inspection, the black fluid was also on Donnie's gear and mask. This was not good at all. Mikey was searching the room for escape routes when his eyes fell upon a nearby broom. It might as well have been glowing with the light of promise as it beckoned to him from across the garage.

Mikey approached the broom and grabbed it with the reverence that King Arthur must have felt when first clutching excalibur. This was both broom and savior to him. Holding the sacred object close to his chest, Mikey returned to the van. He then began prodding at Donatello with the broomstick as he repeated his brother's name in the most gentle tone that he could muster. He didn't want Donnie to wake up all at once and smack his head on the bottom of the van. This was partially because he loved and cared about his brother, and partially out of a desire for self-preservation.

Donnie began stirring from the repeated pokes with the broomstick. Mikey gave him one final, strong jostle before dropping the broom and peeling out of the garage as though it was on fire. He disguised his voice as he ran. "Wake up, Donnie, it's time for breakfast," he hollered through his hands in a rough, low-pitched tone.

A metallic clatter followed by some nerd-like, creative expletives arose from behind him. Mikey made it into the kitchen and cowered behind Leo before Donnie could get out from under the van and into the main room. Both Leo and Mikey listened in fear as Donnie spewed a litany of nonsensical references about Darwin, Newton and Einstein, accompanied by some unidentifiable squeaking noises.

Raphael watched from his bedroom doorway as Donnie slipped into the main room. It looked like he was sliding gracelessly along an ice slick. His arms were pinwheeling in circles, and he was shouting the Donnie-version of swearwords. Raphael rolled his eyes. How did his brother manage to be such a dork even when enraged? He then cringed as Donnie went down hard, collapsing in a crumpled heap on the floor. It was then that Raphael realized that his brother had left a black trail in his wake. "Donnie, are you okay?" he cried, dropping to his knees besides his flailing brother.

"No!" Donnie shouted. "Whose wise idea was this?"

Leonardo and Michelangelo had emerged from the kitchen, and Raphael locked eyes with his leader. He looked back to Donnie. "What are you talking about?"

"Who thought it would be funny to cover me in oil and leave me under the van?!"

The brothers looked at eachother in confusion. Donnie was certain this had to be a prank. He zeroed in on the usual suspect. "Mikey!" He hollered. Mikey shrank down behind Leo and watched in horror as Donatello tried to regain his footing, only to continue slipping back down to the floor and thrashing around like a fish out of water.

"It wasn't me! It wasn't meeeee!" Mikey cried dramatically, quivering behind Leo and fearing for his life.

Continuing with his uncharacteristically saint-like behavior, Raphael helped Donnie to his feet. He kept a firm grip around his brother's shell as he steadied him and began guiding him towards the bathroom. "Come on, Donnie. Let's get you to the shower. Could the rest of you _please_ keep it down?"

"This isn't over!" Donnie growled, casting a seething glance behind his shoulder.

After getting Donnie started in the shower, Raphael sank into a seat at the kitchen table and examined both of his brothers. Leo was innocently sipping a cup of tea, and Mikey was nervously twirling his fingers. "Level with me here. This wasn't a prank, right?" Raphael asked.

"No," Michelangelo defended. "I swear!"

"You're asking me?" Leo said incredulously. He was the last turtle around here to revert to pranking.

Raphael groaned and put his head in his hands. "Eh, of course it wasn't you."

"You guys have to save me," Mikey implored. "I'm an innocent turtle, too young and handsome to die."

"He ain't gonna kill ya. Just maim ya," Raphael murmured into the table top. One hand was over the top of his head and the other beneath it.

"It'll be fine, Mikey," Leo soothed. "Raph, are you okay?"

"Don't be such a mother-hen, Leo. I'm just hu-" Raphael stopped his sentence mid-word and backpedalled. "I just have a headache," he finished quickly.

Leo eyes widened in shock. He looked at Mikey. His naive brother was lost in his own world, as always. Leo came around the table, lowered his head and spoke into Raphael's ear slit. "Were you about to say that you're hungover?"

"No! I just have a headache. What's the matter with you?!"

Leo narrowed his eyes. "That's not what you started to say. You said you are just huuuuu…" Leo trailed off, hoping that Raphael would finish the sentence and confess.

"Headache," Raph said emphatically.

"You are just 'headache'? That's grammatically incorrect even for you."

"So I misspoke. Sue me."

"Is that what you and Casey were up to last night?" Leo asked. "When you two hang out alone, do you...drink?" Leo clutched his set of imaginary pearls in shock.

"No! I just have a headache. It was a minor slip of the tongue. Now lay off!"

Leonardo had heard that you can sometimes smell alcohol on people after they've been drinking. He was already hovering over Raphael, so he decided to test this out. Raphael seemed to smell normal. Leo went in closer.

"Are you smelling me? What the shell, Leo?" Raphael roared. It was then that Donatello reappeared on the scene.

Michelangelo had been oblivious to what was going on around him this whole time. He had been sitting at the table and quietly reflecting on his life and his impending death. When Donatello appeared, he nervously popped up. "Donnie, you're here! We made you some coffee." He held the entire pot out like a peace offering. It was then that he realized that something was amiss. "Donnie, why are you naked?"

Until now, Donatello's face had been impassive and impossible to read. He stepped forward like a tiger ready to pounce, his barely contained rage was palpable. "Because, everything I was wearing was saturated in oil AND RUINED."

Michelangelo let out a fearful cry and hid beneath the table. Donatello lunged for his retreating foot. Leonardo stopped sniffing Raphael and flew across the kitchen, immediately locking Donatello in a full-nelson hold.

"Leave him alone, Donnie. It wasn't a prank. You just fell asleep during an oil change." Leo explained as he wrestled.

"I fell asleep in the lab, not the garage," Donnie hollered. "The van didn't even need an oil change!"

Mikey peeked out from the table. "It wasn't me! I didn't do it!"

Everyone turned to Raphael. Even Donnie quit struggling. "I wasn't here last night. I was out with Casey, remember?"

"But afterwards?" Leo asked.

"I went to bed. Pretty sure I heard the brainiac still working in the lab, though."

"Think about it, Donnie," came Mikey's scared voice from beneath the table. "How could anyone have gotten you beneath the van without waking you?"

"Mikey has a good point," Leo conceded.

"It would've been easy, IF I WAS SLICKED UP WITH OIL FIRST!" Donnie began struggling again.

"Calm down, Donnie," Leo ordered. "Is it possible that you were sleepwalking?"

"Since when do I do that?" Donnie asked. When nobody responded immediately he finished the thought on his own. "That's right, since never."

Leonardo looked around the room. Raphael was holding his head in his hands, eyes squeezed shut as he nursed his possible hangover. Mikey was cowering beneath the table like a scared animal. Donnie was thrashing and leveling increasingly creative and vicious threats.

He'd calm down and convert back to sweet old Donnie eventually. Maybe he had been sleepwalking. Maybe it was a prank. Could've been a drunk Raph or a fun loving Mikey. Probably not since neither of them were laughing, but still, who knows? The mystery would likely never be solved.

That morning peace and quiet had been nice while it lasted. Still, a genuine smile crossed Leo's face as he took in the sights and sounds of his family. The wrestling hold he was executing turned into a hug. "I love you guys," he sighed.

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 **Thanks for reading!**


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